


Better Late Than Never

by MsMelancholy



Series: Crowley was Raphael :) [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Big brother Crowley, Crowley Has an Anxiety Disorder (Good Omens), Crowley Was Raphael Before He Fell (Good Omens), Crowley Whump, Crowley is stupid, Crowley’s Eyes, Crowley’s Hiss, Gabriel tries his best, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Injured Aziraphale, M/M, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley, Self-Sacrificing Crowley, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), Worried Crowley (Good Omens), Worried Gabriel (Good Omens), injured crowley, post armageddon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 01:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20399602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMelancholy/pseuds/MsMelancholy
Summary: “I don't like it.” Aziraphale muttered softly.“Wot?”“I don’t like it!” Aziraphale said a little louder, cheeks dusted with an embarrassed light pink tint. “My bookshop has much more history and style to it. This is just…gentrification at it’s finest.”[Or: Aziraphale finds out who Crowley was in an unconventional way.]





	Better Late Than Never

**Author's Note:**

> This entire fic is a little messy. I don’t like how it came out, but I felt like if I didn’t post it I wouldn’t be able to move on to another project, so here it is. 
> 
> Also!! Don’t worry about how it ends! Crowley and Zira will definitely talk all of this out. Just wanted to try my hand at some injury writing!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Crowley admittedly fell in love with Aziraphale’s obsession with books. Long  _ long  _ ago, Crowley had promised himself to love Aziraphale for both his vices and virtues. So even though Aziraphale’s book obsession tended to spiral out of control every once in a while, Crowley couldn’t find it in himself to hate that part of his angel. 

The angel demon duo had been on their way to a bookshop to acquire a book that Aziraphale just  _ had  _ to have. Fall was ending and Winter had already begun to creep upon them, so Crowley was positively disgruntled to have Aziraphale pull him from the warmth of his covers in favor of forcing him to drive to some bookshop in Westminster.

“Can’t you just, y’know, get it shipped or something?” Crowley suggested, driving at the speed limit for once. 

“It’s not the same.” Aziraphale began. “Oh Crowley, I wouldn’t dare imagine what my pook book would go through if I had it mailed. Someone could carelessly toss it into the back of a truck. What if they manage to misplace it on the way?!”

Crowley chuckled to himself. Of course he knew the dangers of the postal service. He’d been the one to tempt poor delivery men and women into having a little bit of...fun while on the job. It was easy, really. All he had to do was toss one little measly box into the back of a delivery truck before workers started getting ideas of their own. If your package arrives destroyed, Crowley is the demon to blame. 

“That’s what shipping and handling fees are for, angel.” Crowley ran a red light, beginning to get impatient. “Where is this shop at anyway?” 

“It should be just up ahead.” Aziraphale grinned giddily as the aforementioned shop came into view. 

The little shop was quite modern looking in comparison to Aziraphale’s outdated shop. Large windows allowed light to seep into the building and just from the front entrance you could see a multitude of tables and bean bag chairs meant for patrons to sit at and enjoy their books along with a cup of morning tea.

“Nice.” Is all Crowley said once they’d stepped into the building. 

Aziraphale cringed at the interior decor of neatly dusted book shelves along with different signs directing customers to different sections of the shop. The children’s area looked like a unicorn had thrown up in it with how many different colors were splattered around the room. 

“I don't like it.” Aziraphale muttered softly.

“Wot?”

“I don’t like it!” Aziraphale said a little louder, cheeks dusted with an embarrassed light pink tint. “My bookshop has  _ much  _ more history and style to it. This is just…gentrification at it’s finest.”

Crowley snickered at the flustered angel, covering his mouth with his hand in an attempt to stifle his laughs. Aziraphale just huffed and began to stalk off towards the front desk. A tan skinned woman sat there, her hair in two long braids that reached down to her waist. A pair of dark rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of her nose and she pushed them up quickly before continuing to type on her laptop.

“Excuse me? I’m here to pick up a book order?” Aziraphale flashed a smile at the girl. 

She startled badly, nearly knocking her tea of of her desk, but it miraculously remained there, unspilled. The girl apologized profusely, moving the mug out of the way before returning her attention to the odd couple standing in front of her. 

“I’m really sorry.” She apologized again. “What book is it?”

Crowley tuned them out, instead miracling a book onto the floor after he’d heard a small boy claim that he’d never find the book his mama used to read him. The boy looked absolutely ecstatic when he stumbled upon it. Crowley wasn’t nice. He was a demon and demons didn’t do nice. Unless there were children involved. 

“I’ll go get your book, Mr. Fell! I’ll be back in just a minute.” The girl, Crowley read the name ‘Magnolia’ on her name tag, skittered off into what must have been the back room.

“Such a sweet girl.” Aziraphale hummed.

“Why, because she’s doing her job?” Crowley rose an eyebrow.

“Can’t I just appreciate good customer service?” Aziraphale crossed his arms stubbornly. “She’s doing a good job.”

“Of course she is, angel. I’ll be sure to tip her.” Crowley hummed, leaning against the front desk. 

A boy walked in, he couldn’t have been much older than 15. He was a tall and lanky looking thing nearly the same height as Crowley. His eyes darted to the front desk before shifting around the room nervously. He wore one of the store t-shirts along with a name tag that read ‘Ben’ in big blocky letters. 

Crowley felt the nervousness radiating off the the teen, immediately shifting his attention to the boy and what he was up to. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as Ben made his way over to the front desk. He looked like he was trying to avoid eye contact with anyone and anything around him.

Aziraphale must have sensed something wrong too because he shifted closer to Crowley, their arms brushing against one another. 

“Is there something I can help you with?” Ben questioned sweetly, smile not quite meeting his eyes.

“Not at the moment, no. Just waiting on a book order.” Aziraphale spoke softly.

“Maybe you’d like to add another book to your purchase?” Ben fidgeted with his keys, unlocking the register and locking it again. “You look like a classical fan. All of our classics are to the left all the way at the back.”

“I’m quite alright.” Aziraphale offered a smile. 

“I must insist-“

“I believe he made himself clear.” Crowley spoke up, his eyes practically glowing beneath his sunglasses.

Ben’s eyes shifted to the area around them, not many people were in the main area. The most populated part of the shop was the ‘Quiet Reading Section’. Crowley followed his gaze, but his eyes snapped back to the boy when he heard the clicking of a gun.

Ice shot down his spine and he froze in place. Aziraphale tensed next to him, shifting impossibly closer to the demon. It was a strange turn of events. Of course, Crowley had anticipated things taking a turn for the worse, but to jump from an uncomfortable conversation to being threatened at gunpoint seemed far out of left field. 

“Leave.” Ben said shakily, shifting his aim between the angel and the demon. He was holding the gun low in an attempt to make everything seem normal. Nearby patrons didn’t notice anything peculiar. “And don’t you dare tell anyone what I’m doing.” 

Ben unlocked the register and began to stuff the bills into his jean pockets with his free hand while keeping the gun pointed at the two. Crowley tried to deduce the situation. 

“Alright. Fine.” Crowley agreed with a stiff nod. “We’ll go.”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley like he was crazy. Crowley’s eyes shot to the gun and then to the room next door that had around 20 unsuspecting customers. The angel put two and two together. If they didn’t listen, they would be risking the murder of innocent humans.

Just to put a hitch in their plan, Magnolia came out holding Aziraphale’s book close to her chest.

“I’m sorry it took so long! Would you believe that there’s another person with the last name Fell?” Magnolia’s eyes landed on Ben and the open register. “Ben?”

The boy swiveled around, aiming the gun at the girl’s chest. “Shut the fuck up. Just—just go to the back room.”

The long haired girl opened her mouth but promptly closed it, unsure of what would even help in this situation.

“Y-you can’t just  _ take _ the money.” She found herself saying despite the way her voice shook. “I can’t just sit here and watch you do this.”

Crowley cursed heroic humans. Why couldn’t they just be selfish like the rest of the human race?

“Don’t make me do this, Mags.” Ben gnawed on his lip. “Just go and no one gets hurt.”

“No.” 

Too many things happened at once. The sound of a gunshot as well and the snapping of fingers. Screams rang out from frightened children and nearby patrons who had been watching the encounter. Ben’s eyes widened in fear and confusion. He dropped the gun and took off out the front door. 

Crowley glanced to his left to find Magnolia standing there instead of his angel. Easy to say that his heart stopped beating. The demon hurdled over the front desk and slid to his knees beside the wounded angel.

“You idiot! You stupid angel!” Crowley cursed, checking for a pulse. It was thready, but still there. “Why’d you go and do a stupid thing like that?”

“I couldn’t just—hng— let her die.” Aziraphale tried to curl in on himself, but Crowley held him firmly in place. 

The demon peeled back Aziraphale’s many layers of tartan to reveal the offending gunshot wound. He’d never hated the color red more than he did in that moment. 

“What am I ssssupposed to do— I-I-I—” Aziraphale grabbed ahold of Crowley’s hand like it was a life line. It managed to ground the demon, keeping him from spiraling. 

Crowley put pressure on the wound and muttered a quick apology when Aziraphale whined-- a keening noise that the demon never wanted to hear again.. “You! Call an ambulance!” He hissed at Magnolia.

“T-there’s already one on-on-on the way.” She said shakily. “I’ll wait outside for it.”

Crowley looked back at Aziraphale to find the angel drifting to sleep. He patted his cheek a few times until the angel pried his eyes open. 

“No sssssleeping.” Crowley scolded.

Crowley didn’t know what else he could do besides keep pressure on the wound and offer moral support. So he talked. He talked about his plants. He talked about Anathema and Newt. He talked about their wedding day. He talked about his Bentley. He talked about dining at The Ritz. He talked until he felt like he couldn’t talk anymore. Aziraphale listened along somberly. 

Crowley started to get antsy after nearly 20 minutes passed with no sign of the ambulance. Aziraphale lay miserably on the floor as Crowley held his hands against the wound. His hands began to shake as the adrenaline wore off and his anxiety took its place. Aziraphale tried to place a soothing hand on top of Crowley’s, but he couldn’t find the strength to move his fingers, let alone his entire arm.

“I’m going to die here.” Aziraphale muttered, barely audible.

“No you won’t.” Crowley hissed. 

“It’s--”

“Don’t you dare sssay ineffable.” Crowley glowered. “The ambulance will be here soon.”

“And if it doesn’t make it in time?”

Crowley clamped his mouth shut. He couldn’t even imagine what he’d do if Aziraphale wasn’t on Earth. He’d survived 6000 long years only to get caught in the middle of a war he didn’t want to be apart of. He and Aziraphale thwarted Armageddon together. They’d created their own side. And now he was going to lose everything he spent millenia working for. 

“I have an idea.” Crowley said suddenly. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to do something stupid.” Aziraphale’s voice was a whisper now. It was all he could really manage at this point. He had a tolerance for injuries and pain being an ethereal being and all, but even this was pushing it a little too far.

“Ssstupid, maybe.” Crowley shrugged, taking his hands off the wound. “Too bad you won’t be awake to see my genius at work.”

“What--”

Crowley snapped and Aziraphale was out like a light. Crowley stood, his wings sprouting from his back suddenly. The 2 other sets were there as well, a rare occurrence. The demon felt a strange mix of holiness and demonic energy swirling beneath his skin. It spread through his veins and made his skin crawl.

He drew a strange sigil in the air with his fingers and it began to glow gold once he was finished. The wound in Aziraphale’s abdomen seemed to disappear and Crowley grinned devilishly. Despite falling, Crowley was still able to perform miracles. So he figured that if he pushed a miracle to the extreme, then he  _ should  _ still be able to heal people, humans and supernatural beings alike. 

But of course good things can’t last. Just as he went to wake Aziraphale up, heat flared up his side and he stumbled backwards, leaning against the desk for support. 

“Bloody hell.” He cursed when he peeled his hand back from his abdomen to find it stained red. 

Of course there had to be some sort of demonic twist to everything. When he performed good miracles, usually he had to perform a demonic one to balance it out or else he’d be dealing with a bad headache and nausea for the rest of the day. Now it seemed that any wounds he healed would only be transferred to him. 

He sucked in a sharp breath and swallowed the pain. He could deal with this. If it meant that Aziraphale could live on and read his books and eat his favorite meals, then it was worth it. Crowley popped his wings out of existence again before he pushed himself off of the desk. His knees threatened to buckle, but he pushed through it.

Aziraphale’s eyes blinked open once Crowley snapped his fingers again. The angel gasped and sat up quickly, hands feeling his body for a gunshot wound that wasn’t there. Confusion danced across his face and he looked around until his eyes found Crowley’s. 

“What happened?” 

“It doesn’t matter.” Crowley said cooly. “You’re all healed up, but the ambulances can’t find that out. We need to go.”

Aziraphale cocked an eyebrow, but nodded nonetheless. He followed Crowley into the back room and out of the back exit that was in there. It lead out to an alley that stank horribly of garbage and cat piss, but Crowley found himself thanking  _ someone _ once he spotted his Bentley parked just at the end of the alley. 

The walk there was quiet. Crowley felt that if he spoke, his focus would waver and he’d find himself collapsed in a bloody puddle on the floor of a dirty alley. So, even though he could feel Aziraphale’s gaze burning holes in the back of his head, he continued on. When they finally reached the Bentley, he braced himself against it to catch his breath.

“Crowley--”

“Let’s head home.” Crowley grunted before he opened his car door and practically collapsed into the seat.

The car ride was even more tense, if possible. The Bentley was scared for Crowley. It had tried to help soothe him by playing Queen like it always did, but after Crowley’s 3rd time of turning the radio off, it stopped trying. Crowley offhandedly muttered something about going to Aziraphale’s bookshop because it was closer than the cottage. 

When they arrived, Crowley was out of the car before Aziraphale could even say anything. He swiftly walked past the angel and tried to shove his way into the shop, but the doors were locked. 

“Crowley! You’ve barely said a word to me since we left!” Aziraphale shouted angrily. “You know how I hate feeling out of the loop.”

“It’s nothin’ angel.” Crowley slurred as his vision swam.

“Nothing! It’s obviously something.” Aziraphale’s face softened. “I can’t help unless you tell me, dear.”

Crowley barely suppressed a groan as pain spiked through the wound. “Fine fine, inside first.”

Aziraphale smiled triumphantly, unlocking the doors and walking in.

“Really dear, I don’t know why you’re so adamant on keeping things from me--” Aziraphale jumped at the  _ thud  _ that came from behind him. 

Crowley lay in a jumbled heap of limbs, curling in on himself as he attempted to conceal the pain. His forehead burned with fever as sweat drops ran down his cheeks. He trembled with visible exertion as he attempted to push himself into a sitting position. 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale ran over. “My dear boy, what happened?”

“M’fine.” Crowley slurred.

“You are  _ not  _ fine!” Aziraphale’s voice jumped up an octave. “I demand to know what’s going on!”

Crowley whimpered in pain. He brought a trembling hand to his stomach and clutched it. Aziraphale didn’t even bother trying to remove the demon’s clothing manually, instead just miracling his shirt and jacket off.

“How in the world did this happen?!” Aziraphale gaped at the wound that  _ definitely  _ wasn’t there before. In a flurry, he tried to heal it, but to no avail. “I can’t heal it--”

“Gabriel,” Crowley grunted in pain. “Call Gabriel.” 

“What--”

“Please,” Crowley sucked in a sharp breath and he moved the wrong way.

Aziraphale brought his hands together and closed his eyes, praying for the purple eyed archangel. He didn’t think it possible. There was no way that  _ he _ would respond to Aziraphale’s prayer after everything that happened. Life was full of surprises it seemed because within seconds, Gabriel had appeared in the small room. 

“Aziraphale! To what do I owe-- Crowley?” Gabriel’s expression shifted from amusement to concern in 0.5 seconds flat. “What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know!” Aziraphale said, his hands fluttering anxiously over Crowley’s body. “I can’t heal him.”

“Let me try.” Gabriel moved toward the red headed demon, but Aziraphale blocked his way with a pair of white wings. 

“S’okay. S’fine.” Crowley tried to reassure Aziraphale.

Reluctantly, Aziraphale moved out of the way and Gabriel moved closer. His hands landed on Crowley’s abdomen and began to glow with The Almighty’s healing power. Crowley cried out in pain as it surged into him and healed him from the inside out. Slowly but surely, the wound began to heal until there was nothing left. 

Gabriel stood once the job was done, releasing a tired sigh. Aziraphale scooped Crowley into his arms.

“You wiley old serpent, what did you do?” Aziraphale scolded.

“Tried to heal you.” He muttered, his voice was thick with exhaustion.

“That doesn’t really help—”

“It backfired, didn’t it?” Gabriel said suddenly. “You just ended up taking it for yourself.” 

Crowley’s silence was enough confirmation.

“I don’t understand.” Aziraphale said dumbly.

“Wait, you haven’t even told Aziraphale?” Gabriel quirked an eyebrow. 

“Told me what?”

“Never really got around to it.” Crowley sighed softly. “Better late than never.” 

Crowley ignored Gabriel muttering ‘Oh my goodness  _ this  _ is why Beezelbub sent you to Earth, because you’re so god damn annoying’.

“So. Remember how every demon used to be an angel?” Crowley laughed nervously. “Well, I was the Archangel Raphael. Haha…” 

Aziraphale blinked. “What?”

Gabriel groaned, snapping his fingers to pull back the ‘veil’ over Crowley’s wings, revealing all 6 of them in their unholy glory.

“I don’t…why are you just now telling me, dear boy?” Aziraphale gaped at the wings, running his hands through the feathers. “How in the world does Gabriel know before I do?”

“It’s a long story,  _ but _ look on the bright side, you’re healed, I’m healed and all’s well that ends well.” 

Gabriel and Aziraphale pinched the bridge of their noses in annoyance at the idiotic demon sitting across the floor from them. It wasn’t normal, but nothing ever was for them. But Crowley was okay. He was okay. Everyone was okay. That’s all that really mattered. Archangel or not, Crowley was Crowley.

There was a lot they needed to discuss when Crowley wasn’t delirious and collapsed in Aziraphale’s lap. Crowley had a lot to explain, Gabriel had a lot to apologize for. There was so many things that they needed to do, but they had all the time in the world to do it. Things would be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this!! I’m actually working on the next installment of this where Crowley and Aziraphale (and maybe Gabe ;) ?) talk things out because all supernatural beings are emotionally constipated and need to talk things out. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos make my day! Also, contact me on Instagram @mdotleyy or on tumblr @mdotleyy (I think lmaO)


End file.
